


The Iceman's Reverie

by sorcererofsupremepizza



Series: Mycroft and Lestrade - Relationship Shenanigans [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, mycroft misses his boyfriend, mystrade, thinking of the past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 09:19:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11803095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorcererofsupremepizza/pseuds/sorcererofsupremepizza
Summary: Mycroft procrastinates on paperwork and decides to daydream about his first kiss with Lestrade. The umbrella finally has a legitimate use, by the way.





	The Iceman's Reverie

A soft sigh emanated from Mycroft Holmes as he looked down at his mobile phone’s screen. Not that there was anything particularly noteworthy appearing on the screen itself. No work related missed calls, no bothersome texts from his brother. And, to Mycroft’s disappointment, no texts from his significant other, Gregory Lestrade.

He knew that his boyfriend was busy working a big case; Mycroft had been keeping tabs on it. He was quite swamped himself, feeling like he was drowning in paperwork ever since the States had elected a new leader. Mycroft shook the thought away, continuing to observe his phone screen.

All he had been looking at was his wallpaper. When he really missed his better half, he pulled out his phone and quietly observed the photo of himself and his Gregory. A small smile tugged at the Iceman’s lips as he peered down at the other man’s face.

They had been together four months now, and everything was going stronger than ever. Of course, if he could actually _see_ his man in person – surveillance cameras just didn’t do Gregory’s beautiful persona justice – things would be even better. For now, however, Mycroft would just have to settle for the occasional phone call or rare text message until Greg was done working the case with Sherlock. He supposed he should use the time away to get caught up on the mounds of paperwork that surrounded him.

 _To hell with that_ , Mycroft thought as he finally pocketed his phone and got to his feet. He had had no reason to actually go into work today, so he’d decided to work from home. It meant he could daydream without anyone catching him unawares, which exactly what he had been doing. He wandered over to the large bay window, watching the sun set outside. The sun set looked exactly like it had on the night he had taken Greg to a London Symphony Orchestra; it was positively mesmerizing that night as well. Of course, it was nowhere near as breathtaking as Gregory in a full three-piece suit.

Mycroft smirked as he now realized how much more he would enjoy it if that suit had ended up on the floor of his bedroom instead, but this had only been their second date. And their first kiss. He remembered every detail from that night, and he didn’t think he would ever forget a single one.

 

 

Mycroft had always loved going to the orchestra. He had never actually gone with anyone before, but that had never bothered him. Now though, that this new, wonderful man was steadily becoming a part of his life, that was changing. And it had been his turn to decide the evening’s activities.

He had his driver pick up Lestrade from his house. Mycroft sat in the car, feeling a bit jittery, but he soon got over it and stepped out, going up to the house. He rang the doorbell. Greg answered soon after, knocking his spearmint tie to the side in his frenzy to open the door. Immediately, the DI blushed and stuttered. “Oh, Mr Holmes, Myc-Mycroft! You’re early. Sorry, I’m not quite ready.”

Mycroft had noticed this, seeing Greg’s untucked shirt and crooked tie. A ghost of a smirk flitted across his thin lips, then he shrugged. “Not a problem, Gregory.”

Greg looked at him. “It’s good to see you again, Mycroft.” He offered a smile of his own, his teeth sparkling. Greg gestured for him to come inside to wait, which Mycroft happily obliged.

“Likewise.” Said the British Government, leaning on his umbrella. His palms were becoming rather sweaty, but he ignored them. “I’ll just wait here for you to get ready. We don’t want to be late.”

Greg scratched his head. “Oh, right, of course not.” He paused for a moment, then continued, “You know, I’ve never been to a concert like this. Heavy metal, classic rock, anything like that, sure. But a symphony? I guess all of you Holmeses have an affinity for the arts.”

“Quite so, Gregory.” Mycroft said, glancing around the area in which he currently found himself. The house was deteriorating at a steady pace, the wallpaper peeling off the walls.

Lestrade nodded and disappeared down the hallway to his tiny bathroom to finish preening for the evening. He stared at himself in the mirror, suddenly finding himself anxious for the evening. He closed his eyes, giving himself a silent pep talk.

Once he had finished, he threw on his nicest gray suit jacket. He stepped out into the hallway, pocketing his wallet and keys. Mycroft’s jaw nearly hit the floor when he laid eyes on the man for the first time.

Instead of his usual navy work suit with a rather bland button-down, Lestrade donned a full three-piece suit. The spearmint tie complemented the navy waistcoat and the charcoal jacket. The trousers matched, and he completed the ensemble with a pair of black dress shoes with a bit of broguing on the toes. Mycroft appreciated the touch, although he preferred his usual Oxfords himself. Not that he had never worn the Brogues, but it was just a personal preference. He discarded the thought and continued drinking in the sight before him.

Besides the perfect matching of hues, the charcoal suit made Greg’s salt-and-pepper hair look even more distinguished. It was spiked in that unique way that Greg always managed, not quite sophisticated but not unkempt either. Intentional bedhead, Mycroft guessed. He glanced away as Greg met eyes with him. This observation took little more than a moment for the elder Holmes brother.

“Does the suit look alright?” Greg asked. “I wasn’t sure if it would.”

“It looks superb, Inspector.” Mycroft managed to utter, feeling rather nervous and jittery once again. “Shall we?” He gestured to the door for Lestrade.

“Absolutely!”

 

During the concert, Mycroft cared little for the music. Instead, he was curious as to how Greg would react to the situation. And, he wanted to stare at him. Which is exactly what he did. He found himself licking his own lips, wanting to know what Greg’s tasted like.

Mycroft shook the thought away. He couldn’t have these thoughts distracting him. Then again, he thought, that was the point of all of this, wasn’t it? He swallowed harshly, and that was when Greg leaned over and gave Mycroft a quick peck on the cheek. Color flooded the man’s face, and a grin tugged his lips upward. He met eyes with Greg, and he could feel how palpable the tension was becoming. Greg could feel it too, but before he could act on it, the next song started playing and they had lost their chance.

 _For now_ , Mycroft thought. 

The rest of the concert went well, with both Greg and Mycroft fully enjoying themselves and the company with which they found themselves. Greg had never expected something as boring-sounding as a symphony orchestra concert to be as delightful as that had been. Of course, that could have just been because he had been staring furtively at the man sitting next to him in that moment as well.

Once they had departed the theatre and started walking back to the car, it had started to rain quite heavily. It was now that Greg noticed Mycroft was wearing more than just his suit jacket. It was also when he opened up his umbrella to avoid becoming soaked.

“Blasted rain,” Greg said. He noticed that the umbrella was only big enough for one person anyway.

Mycroft looked over at him as they approached the car. “We do live in Britain, Lestrade.”

Greg laughed. “Very astute observation, Mr. Holmes. Normally it doesn’t bother me, but this suit isn’t exactly warm.”

Mycroft shifted the umbrella to his other hand, the one closest to Lestrade. “Here, join me, Gregory. Better that both of us stay partially wet than one of us completely soaked.”

Lestrade smiled at him and nodded, sidling closer to the man, feeling his elbow brush up against Mycroft’s. “So, tonight was a lot of fun. I can now say I’ve been to an orchestra concert.”

“That you can. I too found the evening to be rather enjoyable.” Mycroft said, strolling on to the car. Lestrade walked in line with him, continuing on, even as they got to the car.

“I’ve been enjoying talking to you and spending time with you quite a lot, Mycroft Holmes. We always have fun together…”

Lestrade continued talking, Mycroft knew. He could see the man’s lips moving, but he wasn’t paying a bit of attention to the words that were pouring out of them. He was just focusing on the movement of them, licking his own. Then, out of nowhere, Mycroft blurted out, “Can I kiss you?”

He immediately berated himself for it, feeling like a foolish child, but Lestrade just smiled and shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe.” And closed the distance himself, his lips finding Mycroft’s in a gentle embrace. His arms wrapped around the other man’s waist, then traveled to his hips to hold him there.

Mycroft gasped, his eyes widening, but he soon fell into the rhythm. He quickly discarded the umbrella to free both of his hands, which snaked about Lestrade’s neck and met behind. As the kiss continued, one of his hands found its way into the DI’s silvery spikes, messing it up even more.

All around them, the rain continued to fall, soaking into every inch of their expensive suits. But they did not care. With the umbrella gently blowing back and forth next to them on the concrete, the passionate first kiss continued for several minutes. For Lestrade, it was the best, most romantic, and all around most-awesome kiss he had ever experienced. For Mycroft, nothing could parallel the moment.

Finally, Lestrade was the one to break the kiss. “As amazing as that was, I really think we should get out of this rain.”

Mycroft leaned over to grab his umbrella as Lestrade broke the contact. He pouted a moment. “Yes, I suppose getting pneumonia during our first kiss would rather cancel out the romantic charm.”

Lestrade chuckled and shook his head, opening Mycroft’s door before wandering around to the other side to get in himself.

And as soon as they were on the road back to Greg’s house, the snog picked up right where it left off.

 

Mycroft’s phone ringing brought him out of his reverie, making him jump where he stood by the window. The sun had disappeared now, and the office was steadily becoming dimmer and dimmer. However, as he tugged out the incessantly ringing device, it lit up his face and the area around him.

 

**_[Incoming Call: Gregory Lestrade]_ **

 

In his haste to accept the call, Mycroft nearly dropped the phone. His heart had leapt at the sight of the notification. “Hello?”

“Hey Myc. Got a bit of down time, thought I’d give you a call.”

“Well it’s about time I get to talk to you.” Mycroft said, but he couldn’t hold back a grin.

“Tell me about it. Sherlock is definitely not the Holmes I want to be dealing with right now.” Lestrade said with a soft chortle. “But anyway, how are you doing?”

“I’d be better if you were here.” Mycroft said without hesitation.

“Well, as luck would have it, I think we’re about done for today. John and Sherlock are having a huge domestic at my crime scene, and, oh, John just dragged him away. Looks like he won’t be back for the rest of the night. I can be at your house in 20 minutes.”

Mycroft stood up a little straighter, glancing back at his office. Then he got an idea. “I actually need to get out of my house for a little while. There is far too much paperwork reminding me of what I should be doing here. What would you say to meeting me somewhere?”

Greg raised an eyebrow, perplexed. He switched his phone to his other hand as he reached his car. “Where?”

“Uh, the Symphony Orchestra. There’s something I want to do.”

“Did you get tickets? I don’t know if I’m up for a whole concert, Myc. I’m absolutely beat—

“It’s not a concert. Remember what happened outside of that building, on our second date?”

Greg remembered the night as fondly as Mycroft had. “Of course.”

“I want to re-enact that, but this time we don’t have to part ways afterward.”

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes.” Greg said, cutting the call and getting into his car.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
